Take My Hand and Run
by TimeLady Potter
Summary: Tragedy hurts. People leaving, knowing they are about to die. Sending someone off to their own death. One may think they will never be happy again; set themselves apart from the world, maybe, oh I don't know, on a cloud in the sky. Can they ever be happy again? - A Clara/ 11th Doctor fanfiction from the 11th Doctor's PoV -
1. Bye Bye Pond

I unwillingly open my eyes. They feel abnormal as I rise and go to examine myself in the mirror. They're red and blotchy; something they have not been for a while. Remembering what happened yesterday pained me more than I'd like to admit. Taking deep breathes, remembering every last detail with incredible clarity, I straightened my jacket and put my hands on my bow tie, ready to adjust it before looking at myself again, remembering the story. Remembering twelve years later, Amelia Pond, the girl who waited. Closing my eyes, I let my hands fall to my sides. I couldn't save her. She wanted Rory. I am happy she ended up with Rory, but I would much rather them be in the TARDIS, with me, safe. Well, as safe as traveling in the TARDIS with a raggedy old man can be. I noticed I had been clutching onto a piece of paper, and I immediately remembered what it was: Amy's Afterword. Her words came to memory, painstakingly in her voice: "Don't be alone, Doctor."

"I'm so sorry, Amelia." I said to myself in the mirror. Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. I had almost forgotten River was in the TARDIS with me, flying clear into the night, or whatever time we were in. All I know was that it was enough to still feel both my hearts broken right in half.

"Doctor?" River sounded too worried. She knows me, why is she so worried?

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." I replied, truly concerned about River more than anyone at the moment. "I should have drove last night, you need sleep." River looked at me like I was a madman; so her normal look.

"Sometimes you say the most idiotic things," River stated with a head shake. "You miss them dearly, don't you?" River came closer to me, close enough to put her hand on my shoulder in a comforting manner. I shrugged off the hand.

"All of my companions leave sometimes, I guess it was there's." It pained me to stay this calm, so I pondered why I was? Why didn't I break down? Was it because I was used to this? In the past 300 years of my life, I've seen companions trapped in alternate dimensions, some just leave, some have their memories erased… why did this bother me worse?

"Should I-"

"River, do you mind if I drop you off somewhere?" I tried to put it as nicely as possible, but that seemed impossible at the moment, and that's saying something. I knew, by the look on River's face, that I hurt her. "I need some time alone." I finished quickly, trying to make it a little less harsh.

"Sweetie, I think that would be one of the stupidest things you could possibly do," River sounded like always; which was the fact that despite my cleverness I can have my "moments."

"I think I would know what's best for me, Doctor Song." I walked away from the mirror and past River, going to my console. My TARDIS, the only one who's always been there for me. I straightened myself up and walked down the beautiful steps, absolutely beautiful, and reached the console room. I approached her more, and she whirred with excitement. Slowly finding my way to one of the six control panel slots, I set coordinates for a place River would love; somewhere she always talked about. After pressing a few more buttons and pulling some levers, the TARDIS gave a jerk and was off.

"And where do you think you're going?" River was rushing down the stairs, her hair bouncing with her as she ran.

"Somewhere special, somewhere fantastic, somewhere brilliant!" The TARDIS always had the affect of making me excited, even if I'm in the worst of moods. "Somewhere memorable, even in consideration the whole of time and space. And trust me, there are some _very _excellent places! Have you ever been to Hudfret? Brilliant planet, Hudfretians are quite the dressers, very much appreciated the bow tie and fez. How about Ryserd? Billions of diamonds buried under the surface of a freezing surface, all waiting-"

"But where are _we _going, Doctor?" River interrupted. I hadn't even realized I had been going on and on, but I just smiled.

"Spoilers."

River rolled her eyes at me, chuckling and shaking her head.

After a few more irrelevant seconds, the TARDIS came to a stop in the middle of what felt like a flat surface. Just to check, I ran to the brilliant blue doors and opened them. Smiling, I turn back to River. "Perfect. River, grab your coat!" I ignored the sudden piercing of what felt like my already torn left heart as River smiled and grabbed some sort of coat from the coat hanger that I didn't even know we had.

"Geronimo?" River's voice had some excitement in it, even curiosity. I gave a swift nod.

"Geronimo."

I took her hand in mine and ran for the door, pushing both open for her to clearly see. Her eyes widened, looking at it in amazement.

"What is thi-" she stopped in mid-sentence, admiring the beauty of the scene in front of her. A purple and red sunset shone in front of them, the rest of the sky a dark shade of what looked like turquoise, with blades of grass as white as snow.

"It's called 'Fretnipolis'. Just outside the general area of Earth in the mind of the universe. It's so small that people usually overlook it, but they don't know what they miss out on. I stumbled on it one time when my TARDIS was having a bit of a problem. I investigated a bit, and found that the sunset is permanent, and that no life exists." I smirked lightly. I loved knowing things River didn't for once. Even though I knew that every time I knew something she didn't it would be one time closer to our timelines somehow untangling; she'll go back too far or I'll be too far ahead. I don't think I could live through that, so I did what I had to do. I gave her a little push and closed the TARDIS doors behind her. Instantly, a loud knocking disturbed the spit second silence.

"I'm so sorry, but I need to be alone. At least just for a bit. I need time to think!" I was becoming aggravated as River continued to bang her fist against the door. I took a deep breath and looked over to my console: there was an odd device laying there. I walked over and picked it up, examining it closely. Where had I seen this before? I know this, it's an advanced sonic screwdriver; but from where? Or more so, when? Pushing the button to open it, a memory came to me. _River! It's River's screwdriver!_ Reliving River's death and my heroic save of her spirit(?) from ghosting. Was this when I was supposed to give it to her? Right here, right now? _You're leaving her on an alien planet on her own, you need to leave her with something._ _But this means I can never see her again. I'll never be able to see any of the Pond's ever again. _I decided it was for the best to sever ties completely. Well, try at least. With that, I took the screwdriver to the door and opened it, with River almost punching me in the face.

"Sorry, love." There was absolutely no remorse in her voice.

"I want you to have this." I put the sonic in her hand, holding back emotions. Emotions truly can destroy people; and I'm living proof, right here right now. "Just in case something comes up. And remember that I will never forget you."

"Why do you sound like this is the last time we'll meet?" Something in her voice made me cringe on the inside. She had just lost her parents, now her husband? River had been through hell, but I need a break from everyone. The universe. Every damned thing that's ever existed.

Only one logical response seemed to fit: and oh how ironically it did. "Spoilers." I saw possible tears form in her eyes at this simple word, some may even say her catchphrase. She opened her mouth, maybe to make another remark, maybe to question further, I'll never know. She shook her head and ran off, into this beautiful world I had brought her to, the first time in a series of two for her that I would bring her to some new place that was beautiful, but one difference. This time she would be alive, the next she would be dead.

And with that, I shut the doors to my TARDIS and took off. I let the TARDIS go where she wanted, having no care, no sympathy… nothing.

Then I met Clara.


	2. The Ball

_She. Is. Impossible! _This thought kept first priority in my mind, which was hard; competing with 1200 years of knowledge and experience. How could I have seen her now? She died in he Asylum; there was no way she could have avoided death. Then just now; dying right in front of my eyes. But; instead of feeling pain, I felt hope; even excitement running through my veins. She was somewhere in the universe, just waiting for her man who lives on a cloud. And for whatever it takes, I _will _find her.

"Ole' Girl," I took to speaking o my TARDIS again, but felt no shame. "You beauty, absolute piece of pure gorgeousness. Find Clara-" I paused, having come to a dead end. How could the TARDIS find one girl in the whole universe? Then I remembered, "she has a key; the only other key in existence. Find it and you find her." Hearing a satisfying "whirr" in reply, she took off to who-knows-where.

The TARDIS landed softly somewhere. Hesitantly, I opened the door to find a street crowded with cars near an event center-looking building ablaze with lights, with music blaring from it. Taking a few steps closer, I could make out some of the lyrics; something about falling from "Cloud Nine" and some other things. As soon as I reached the doors, the song changed. he lyrics didn't start until a stepped in the door.

_Well I woke up to the sound of silence_

_and cries were cutting like knives in a fist fight_

_And I found you with a bottle of wine_

_Your head in the curtains_

_And heart like the Fourth of July_

_You swore and said,_

_"We are not,_

_We are not shining stars"_

_This I know,_

_I never said we are_

_Though I've never been through hell like that_

_I've closed enough windows to know you can never look back_

_If you're lost and alone_

_Or you're sinking like a stone_

_Carry on_

_May your past be the sound_

_Of your feet upon the ground_

_Carry on_

_Carry on, carry on_

I decided I quite liked the song, like it maybe spoke to me? I don't know. I felt like the "closing windows" bit fit me, because it's true. There are so many parts to my past that I can't even try to relive without breaking down.

Walking in, I realized it must have been a Masquerade ball, because almost every pair of eyes were staring at me through the small eye holes. I took in my surroundings; different people, their actions…

"LOOK OUT!" I pushed people behind me, must of which ran for he door. I then put myself in between a teenage girl and an older man, his gun now pointed to the center of my chest.

"Move, dammit!" The man had a flame of hatred in his eyes as he tried to stare past me and to the girl.

"Now why would I do that?" No fear passed my face, but a smirk made its way there. I had been faced with guns too many times before to even care.

"Just do it, fag!" His gun twitched, clearly he wasn't expecting a delay. Just a clean job of the girl.

I drew my Sonic Screwdriver and pointed it at the gun. Pressing the button right above the handle, the bullets fell from the gun. "I was never one for violence, particularly and especially guns." I felt every pair of eyes that were left on me in the silence of the night; the music had come to a stop after I yelled.

"Bastard!" The man took off, leaving the gun where he stood. I bent down to retrieve it to examine. Taking mental notes, I tossed it aside and turned to the girl, who was wearing a purple mask with a short green dress.

"Might I ask your names?" I addressed the group surrounding her as well.

"P-Payton," the green dressed one said, her voice containing much fear and confusion.

"Rosalie," another said, who wore a long silk purple dress with a silver glittered mask.

"Summer," the last one said, her dress going to her knees with long sleeves. Her dress was a brilliant royal blue. In her hand was a golden mask, looking slightly dented.

"Okay, good." Questions formed in my mind as I thought of possibilities that that man would have against three teenage girls. "First, did you know that man?"

Rosalie and Summer shook their heads while Payton nodded. "H-He's a f-family f-friend," She had tears running from under her mask. "Until D-Dad t-ticked him o-off."

It all made sense to me now. Of course, if you tick someone off they would want revenge, and where better to seek it then the most prized belonging of the person? "Ah," I simply replied as I walked to her as close as comfortably possible and placed my hand on her shoulders. "Don't worry, because I'm going to find this man and make sure he doesn't come near you or your family ever again."

Payton gave a small, sad smile. "Thank you, s-sir," then ran off, Rosalie and Summer following.

So, instead of finding Cara, I found myself tracking down a potential threat to the family of a teenage girl I just met. Thoughts went crazy in my head as I walked to the 1950's style London police box, now clearly out of place on the edge of a deserted street. By the snap of my fingers, the doors opened. I walked inside and closed the door as a very distant clattering noise from within the TARDIS met my ears. I only had one thought then:

_I am not alone._


	3. The Girl on Fire

My feet found themselves frozen to the floor as I continues to listen. A few more noises occurred before thoughts occurred to me. _I locked my TARDIS when I left. _A wave of hope rushed through me as I willed my feet to run further into my TARDIS, closer to where I heard the noise. The noises I had been hearing came to a sudden stop as I neared the source, which seemed to come from the most immediate hallway to my right.

"Hello?" I called as I turned to the hallway. A noise came from the third door on the left. I walked to it and looked at the perfect mahogany door. A beautiful golden doorknob glistened under a blue circling line which was a deep blue that matched the TARDIS. I absolutely hated this door. I admit it was very beautiful, but what it led to was what I hated. I slowly ran my hand on the Gallifreyin on the door. I remembered writing it, even, the first day I drove this TARDIS. The day I ran away… Shaking my head out of a foggy memory I turned the knob and opened the door.

"Hello?" I addressed any part of the room; like the rest of my TARDIS, it was bigger on the inside. There was a bunk bed shoved in the corner with a few tables full of things. Books lay scattered on the floor, some of them ripped. A lump of cloths I used to wear appeared in the middle of the floor, right next to an open closet. That wasn't like that when I left last, so I knew "she" was in here. I quietly turned around to shut the door.

When I turned back around, a head was popping out of the laundry. It sported my fez and long multi-colored scarf. Like every other girl that was at the ball, she had on a masquerade mask, but hers was like a rainbow. It was very creative, and I liked it.

"Hello, Clara," I smirked as I walked closer to her, amused. Though, I must admit, that looked _very _fashionable. Maybe I should wear that more?

She smiled lightly. "Hello Doctor," she replied, obviously scared that she was caught. "I was just…-"

"Poking around?" I wasn't angry at all. I was more relieved that I had finally found her. Besides, I never kept anything dear to me in my room. I kept that in my pockets, which happened to be bigger on the inside as well. In there, I have my TARDIS key, sonic screwdriver, _Melody Malone _book, and some other things from past companions. A that was in my room were some textbooks from the Gallifreyian academy and cloths I never wore anymore.

"Maybe just a tad." Clara slowly stood, the fez crooked on her head and the scarf covering all of her neck with much more scarf left. She also came up with my question mark cane. I couldn't help from chuckling slightly to myself as she stepped from the heaping pile. "How do I look?"

"Absolutely fantastic," I replied, not catching what I said. It took me a moment before finally realizing and again chuckling to myself. "Haven't used that one in quite a bit. A few hundred years it'd be, now." I looked to her, and she looked confused. Again, I was quite amused. "Does that scare you?"

She quickly shook her head. "Why should it?" She had a playful smirk on her lips, which for some reason drew me more to her.

"Most people freak out when I saw I've lived more than, oh, forty years?" I looked at mirror, then corrected myself, "thirty I should say, this time around." I glanced back at Clara and she still had that smirk on her face. I took my chances and asked, "What do you think of me?"

"Impossible." She walked closer to me, and stopped a foot away from me. "Completely impossible."

"Why?" I was used to this response, but I wanted to hear her story. Everyone's story is different, and I figured Clara's would be very different.

"You live on a cloud in a box that's smaller on the outside." I couldn't tell, but I think this had been really bothering her about me. I couldn't stop being amused by her.

"Me? Impossible? No, I'm just highly unlikely. _You_, on the other hand, are completely impossible."

"What makes me so impossible? And why aren't you impossible? _I_ think you're pretty impossible." She paused, possibly to think things over. "Two impossible people meeting in a box smaller on the outside. Shouldn't that be impossible?"

"But I am not impossible. I've properly existed, but you," I paused to try and find the right way to put it, "you've died two times already. That is completely impossible."

"We must have different opinions on the matter, then." She smirked and walked past me, to the door. When I gave her a confused look, she sighed like it was obvious. "I'm not going to let this dress and mask go unused. I'd only just arrived when you bustled through." She offered me her hand. After a few moments of me just staring at it, she backtracked and grabbed my hand herself. Even though I was resisting, she ran out of the door, back to the stairs, and out of the TARDIS doors. I just looked at her like she was crazy. No one, _No one, _ever took my hand. That was _my _job!

Once we reached the inside of the deserted building, which turned out to be a tavern, she released my hand. Her face fell in the slightest as she looked around, then smiled its fullest again when she turned back to me. I felt slight satisfaction in that.

"Is there a way you could turn some music on? I mean, I'd think it'd be hard to dance without it." She smiled lightly at me, as if she knew I could. Which, of course, was a sonic screwdriver specialty. I drew the screwdriver, pointed it at the DJ station and pressed the button. Lights came on as the music started to come back. A song with a laid back beat came on. "Next one," Clara said. "I'll tell you when to stop." More songs sounded, none of them seeming to please her. Finally, a song came on that Clara must have liked, because she told me to keep it. Pausing it, however, I found an abandoned mask laying on the floor and picked it up. The mask was a brilliant gold with a silver streak down the middle that covered one's whole face. Pulling it over my head and placing it over my face, I walked back over to Clara, pointed the screwdriver to the DJ system again, and the song started over again.

_She's just a girl and she's on fire_

_Hotter than a fantasy, lonely like a highway_

_She's living in a world and it's on fire_

_Filled with catastrophe, but she knows she can fly away_

Clara smiled at me as we danced, a kind of slow dance to fit the song. Her eyes were closed behind her mask as she swayed casually back and forth, as if she didn't have a care in the world. I had to admit, I _really _liked that.

_Ohhhh oh oh oh oh_

_She got both feet on the ground_

_And she's burning it down_

_Ohhhh oh oh oh oh_

_She got her head in the clouds_

_And she's not backing down_

I swayed along with the music as well, listening to the lyrics. I always was fascinated with song lyrics and the stories they told, and this one was unbelievably accurate. It was describing, with almost amazing accuracy, how I saw Clara. Like she was the girl on fire.

_This girl is on fire..._

_This girl is on fire..._

_She's walking on fire..._

_This girl is on fire..._

Clara did a twirl with my arm, then faced me again. She seemed to be reay enjoying herself, and so was I.

_Looks like a girl, but she's a flame_

_So bright, she can burn your eyes_

_Better look the other way_

_You can try but you'll never forget her name_

_She's on top of the world_

_Hottest of the hottest girls say_

I noticed Clara started mouthing the words along, and heard her start to sing. She had such a beautiful voice that I tuned in just to her voice.

_Ohhhh oh oh oh_

_We got our feet on the ground_

_And we're burning it down_

_Ohhhh oh oh oh oh_

_Got our head in the clouds_

_And we're not coming down_

_This girl is on fire..._

_This girl is on fire..._

_She's walking on fire..._

_This girl is on fire..._

Her eyes closed as she continued, still swaying alongside me.

_Everybody stares, as she goes by_

_'Cause they can see the flame that's in her eyes_

_Watch when she's lighting up the night_

_Nobody knows that she's a lonely girl_

_And it's a lonely world_

_But she gon' let it burn, baby, burn, baby_

_This girl is on fire..._

_This girl is on fire..._

_She's walking on fire..._

_This girl is on fire..._

_Oh, oh, oh, oh ohhhhh oh oh oh ohhh oh oh oh ohhhh Oh, oh, oh, oh ohhhhh oh oh oh ohhh oh oh oh ohhhh Oh, oh, oh, oh ohhhhh oh oh oh ohhh oh oh oh ohhhh Oh, oh, oh, oh ohhhhh oh oh oh ohhh oh oh oh ohhhh_

Using my shoulders, she jumped off of the floor, looking at me with her now open eyes. Her hair flew upwards as she landed back, smiling even more and just in time to finish the song off.

_She's just a girl and she's on fire_

The song died out, but the swaying continued. It continued for quite a while, until the most unexpected thing happened: she leaned in and kissed me.

Even more unexpected, I kissed her back.


	4. The Past is the Past or is it?

I was shocked at first, of course. I saw her lean in, slowly pull my mask over my head and threw it on the ground. The next moment, her smooth lips were pressed against mine with passion behind them. I remember this from the first time, but it was better, in a way. This time I knew her name. This time, I kissed her back.

I don't even know how much time passed as we embraced and kissed. I have found that time is my specialty yet also my greatest weakness: I am a time lord, hence a master of time in a way, yet when time passes in a normal order I find myself in my greatest flaw, since I have no true way of calculating it. Eh, it's all just a big ball of wobbly wobbly timey wimey… stuff.

Finally, I pulled away to catch my breath, exasperated. Clara smiled at me, as if asking for more. I felt a bit thirsty, so I put my finger to her lips before she could reach me again. "Just a quick drink." I started to walk over to the bar area when she grabbed my arm.

"No!" She sounded scared, almost. I had never heard Clara sound scared, so naturally, it scared me. I turned back around to face her, her face looking worried and pained.

"What's wrong?" I couldn't think of any comforting words to say, since I didn't know what was going on exactly.

"N-Nothing," she tried to hide the worry and pain with a smile, though I could tell it was very forced.

"Clara," I walked back to where I was face to face with her and put my hands on her shoulders, looking into her beautiful eyes that were wide with fear of possibly her past. "What happened? Why are you so scared?"

She seemed to think of it for a few seconds, then shake her head, her eyes becoming wet with tears. "It's nothing."

I sighed, then took her hand in mine. "Clara, I know something is bothering you, and I can't help until I know what it is." I tried to say this as gently as possible, and she just looked up at me, holding back tears.

"It's a long story," she stated as she looked down to the floor, the first tears coming down her cheeks. My finger wiped her tear away as she pressed her hand against mine to keep it close to her.

"I've got all the time in the world. Fire away," I commented as she looked at me, confusion now starting to make its way across that troubled face.

"I could never tell somebody. I could never find the right words," she sighed after saying this, letting her hand fall to her side and looking to the ground. An idea came to me then.

"I need to know, and I think I might just know how." I needed to see it, not hear it. I placed my hands on either side of her head. "I need you to concentrate. I know it must hurt, but I need you to remember everything that's happened to you in your childhood." I could tell she was trying, because more tears fell down her now rosy cheeks. Slowly, I pressed myself into her mind to relive the moments from just outside Clara's view, to where, hand in hand with the older Clara, we could watch what happened.

I was standing in an older looking hospital room, a pregnant lady laying on the hospital bed. She looked pained and ready to give birth at any minute, though she seemed not to be in labor yet. Clara had her hand in mine, holding back tears again. A doctor came into the room.

"Mrs. Oswald?" The doctor's voice was calm, but with the tiniest bit of urgency in his voice.

"Yes?" the woman on the bed replied, in pain. She tried to sit up, winced in pain, then laid back down.

"I'm afraid we have some bad news," the doctor sat at the foot of her bed, looking sincere. "Something's gone wrong, and one of you will not make it tonight." His voice sounded grave.

The woman gasped lightly, tears coming to her own eyes slowly. This woman bore a striking resemblance to Clara: same hair color, same face shape, and same nose figure. "I suppose I have a choice?" The woman looked to the man, a grave tone to her voice and water in her eyes.

"It's only right that we give you the choice, Mrs. Oswald," he placed a hand on the woman's leg, waiting for her decision.

"I want my child to live." Her face was pained, but those words came out; the last words she ever spoke. A split second after, Mrs. Oswald shrieked as she started into labor. Even just by observing I could tell something was gravely wrong as doctors and nurses filed in the room.

"Keep the child alive whatever you do!" the main doctor yelled to his crew. They then started cutting the woman open, despite her blood-curding screams that were sure to have reached the rest of the hospital…

She was gone. The woman who, a second before, was screaming for her life now lay limp on the blood-stained sheets of the hospital bed. Beside her was a doctor with a lump in his hands, the lump limp and not moving. "Move move move MOVE!" the doctor holding the dead baby rushed past everyone and into another room, where I heard shouts of "clear" and other things. My eyes turned back to the woman, the echo of her last scream still on her face. Looking closely, I noticed blood on her arm that was written to a word. "Clara." Her arm had the name of her now dead baby on it.

One of the doctor's came back to the room and took a look at the woman. He observed her arm and made out the name that was there. Taking Clara's hand, I followed him into the room with the dead baby in it.

"Her name is Clara," he said, sounding exhausted and a little freaked out.

"What good is that if the damned thing won't even breath?" a female nurse asked, very stressed and had graying hair on her head, but she looked no older than thirty.

"Wait… what's going on!?" As if by miracle, the baby started breathing on its own, crying along with it. The doctors and nurses were completely shocked as the baby looked at them, a little curiously even. Watching the baby, a thought occurred to me; how could Clara remember this? How could she recall the first few moments of her life, especially when her small form was limp in the doctor's arms? Turning my head to the left gave me my answer. There was an older, yet younger than the one holding my hand at the moment, version of Clara watching. She looked around fourteen and had a pretty big watch on. Stepping forward and looking at it, I realized it wasn't just any old watch. It was a vortex manipulator, and, if I wasn't mistaken, the very same one I so often saw River with. This thought, however, was the least of my worries. One of the doctors looked and saw the teenage Clara staring at them.

"What are you looking at?!" His voice was severe as he scolded the teenager, though she didn't look scared. Well, this didn't scare her more than what fear already showed on her pale face. She gulped, looking at the child, seeming to know it was her.

"I knew her," teenage Clara said in a hushed whisper. "And she wanted the child's full name to be 'Clara Oswin Oswald'" The doctor just looked her up and down, then nodded.

"I'll take your word for it, Ma'am," he replied, going over to a piece of paper, which I assumed was the birth certificate. She walked with him to look at the paper, reading it over. The doctor looked at her and offered the pen. "You knew her more than I did." With that, Clara filled in "Clara Oswin Oswald" in the name blank. Then the scene faded away to a different one.

We were in an old house, very abused looking. I looked carefully at my view: a middle-aged man with a bottle of beer in his hand, dead asleep, and a little girl, around nine or ten, walking around the house. The little girl seemed to be trying to keep caution, avoiding the man as much as possible. To my horror, I saw scrapes and bruises on the poor girl's face and arms. There was a particularly nasty scratch right above her eye that was still very slightly bleeding. She walked a little ways more and stepped on something that made a loud noise. The man on the couch sat upright, looked around, and gave the little girl a death stare.

"You little bitch!" He stood and ran at the girl. The girl screamed and ran further down the hall, opened a door and shut it quickly. The man pressed hard against the door, eventually breaking it. The little girl cowered in fear as she was being dragged from the room by her arm. The man pinned her against the wall. "What have I told you about interrupting my sleep?!" When she didn't respond, most likely because she couldn't breath, he slapped her hard across the face. "YOU ANSWER ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU!" he shouted in her face. Her nose crinkled, probably from the alcohol she could smell from the man's breath.

"I-I-I-" she tried to explain, but the man cut her off.

"Everything is your fault! YOU'RE the reason we live in the Goddamn terrible house, it's YOU'RE fault that MY WIFE IS DEAD! YOU KILLED HER YOU LITTLE PIECE OF-" he cut off. The little girl had stopped breathing. He released her to just have her fall to the ground, catching her breath with difficulty. The girl took the opportunity to run, but didn't make it. The man grabbed her again and slapped her across the face again, knocking a tooth out. "Clara Oswin Oswald, you are a disgrace! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU! NOT YOUR MOTHER! WHAT DID SHE EVER DO WRONG?! BUT NO, SHE CHOSE YOU, YOU STUPID LITTLE WHORE!"

I felt Clara squeeze my hand tighter, and I could hear her sobbing. I looked to her, her hand on her cheek, exactly where the man had slapped the little girl.

The younger Clara kicked who I supposed was her father in a place where no man wants to be kicked, and he let her go. She ran out the front door and to the street, trying to escape. The man followed to where the driveway meets the street, then yelled, "AND STAY OUT!"

Again the scene changed. It was the same house, but a few years looked like it had been added to it. Beer bottles lay scattered across the floor, along with some broken pieces of glass, usually on top of a blood stain. Outside, I heard noises that indicated a storm was coming soon. Sure enough, as the local weather for 5:00 came on with a map of almost all red.

"…And we are expecting a tornado to hit again today, but this one possibly more severe than any we've ever seen in this state. Be sure to take shelter immediately, especially those in the direct pathway…"

If she hadn't of moved, I wouldn't have noticed the girl in the corner of the room. She wore tattered cloths and had more scrapes and bruises. She was extremely thin, so she could fit in the tiny space she was in. She looked at the television with a smirk. Carefully, she arose from her hiding place, tip-toed past the sleeping man, and reached the front door. She quickly swiped a key from the basket right beside the door and pocketed it. She then pushed open the door, which caught the wind and blasted open very loudly. The noise woke the man up as he glared at the thirteen year old looking girl.

"What the hell are you-" his eyes widened as the rain began to pour. Without a second glance, the girl made a run for it. "Oh no you-" the man followed a few yards behind the girl, in the pouring rain. The girl didn't look back as she reached a door that came from the ground. "CLARA OSWIN OSWALD YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW YOU LITTLE-" he was cut off by the wailing of a siren, signaling the beginning of the tornado period. With a slight smirk, Clara opened the doors, climbed in quickly, then shut them. I heard a faint scream from behind the doors.

"Leave me alone, Dad!" I heard a little click, which was the key in the lock. She had locked herself in and left her father to the twister.

"Come on," my Clara said, pulling me along by my hand. She looked pained from her past, as if she was more than grateful she didn't have to deal with that anymore, which I couldn't blame her. Who would want to?

We walked to the doors, able to walk through them since we were not really there. Before we went, however, I caught a glimpse of the storm. It was heading directly for the house and was huge. Bigger than any tornado I had ever seen, and that is definitely saying something.

The cellar was dark and unwelcoming it, but the younger Clara seemed to take pleasure in it. From my guess, she visited here often, because she had a stash of food hidden away in the corner of the room. She took some old-looking bread and lunch meat, made a sandwich, and ate. Not soon after the first bite was down, however, was there a banging on the doors.

"LET ME IN YOU STUPID LITTLE BITCH!" It was her father. Young Clara's face filled with fear as she retreated to the wall. However, the banging was soon accompanied by the sound of a freight train. A little smirk crept on both young and older Clara's face as the banging completely stopped, but the freight train noise continued. I had never seen the young Clara more happy to finally be free from her father. No more alcohol, no more slaps or bruises… she was finally free.

After a few more sandwiches, eaten with about thirty minutes in between each one, and some stale potato chips, the rain turned into a sprinkle and the thunder was barley audible. Hesitantly, she climbed the ladder back up to the doors, took the key that was in her pocket and unlocked the door. Stepping out, she gasped. Older Clara and I followed, and I couldn't help but be a little shocked myself. The whole house that was once there was completely gone: bits of wood and some cotton-looking substance lay where the house used to be, along with much glass from the windows and the beer bottles. Young Clara had a look of shocked happiness across her face as she walked over to the pile. She decided to dig around to see if she could find something of importance that survived. I followed her with the older Clara, wondering what the younger would find. Poking from the rubble was the corner of an aged photograph. Hesitantly, she pulled it from the pile and looked at it. In the picture was a happy couple, possibly on their wedding day. The woman looked almost exactly like the Clara I was holding hands with, though there was just a slight difference. The man looked like no one I had ever seen before. Full of youth, a brilliant smile on his face. Only when young Clara flipped the picture over to read the back did I realize who the man was: It was Clara's father before he started drinking. Before his wife had died during childbirth. Before Clara was born. Older Clara squeezed my hand even more, tears coming down her eyes. Only now that I looked very hard did I notice very faint scars on her face where it looked like she had been attacked with a knife. The scars were fresh on the younger Clara, still irritated.

Young Clara decided to look a little more and found a watch looking object; the vortex manipulator. She slipped it on her wrist, then smiled, like she enjoyed just it's presence on her arm. She typed something in and vanished.

"That's it," older Clara whispered as the scene faded to be replaced with reality. I looked at her face again, wondering how she could ever smile. With such a terrible past, how could one ever be happy? As I thought, I felt Clara's hands slipped as she fainted. I only caught her just in time and picked her up and carried her to the TARDIS.

Little did I know that I was being watched.


	5. The Mistake

It took quite a while before Clara came to, sweating heavily and pale. "Clara?" I asked gently as her eyes opened slowly. She tried to smile as her eyes met mine.

"S-sorry about that…" she tried to sit up, but fell back, too weak. "I guess I'm n-not that s-strong as you t-thought I was…"

My eyes widened at the very thought that she thought that. "Clara," I started, frowning deeply, "if this has shown me anything, it's that you are stronger than I could have ever imagined." I slowly leaned in and kissed her as she weakly kissed back. I pulled away so she could catch her breath. A little blush came to her flushed cheeks.

"Doctor…" Clara tried to talk, but I put my finger to her lips to silence her.

"You need rest." I looked at her closely. "And medical attention. No need to worry, though. I'm a Doctor." I smirked to her as she lightly chuckled back.

"Are you a p-proper one, though?" She tried asking, a little smirk on her face.

"I would suppose so," I replied, having absolutely no actual medical training. I let the thought settle a nice comfy place in the back of my mind as I picked Clara up and started up the stairs. We reached the old metal door that led to the biggest hospital I have ever seen in all my travels. Lined with hall after hall, bed after bed all in separate rooms, marked for specific diseases, the most fatal and life threatening nearer the front. I started walking more to the back, where the unknown rooms were. I opened room 3-57ZKL and set Clara on the bed there. I gathered the testing materials that were supplied in the room and started running tests.

There were so many tests to run that I lost count by the time I was finished. I looked to Clara and she looked more exhausted than ever, but she still managed a smile. "D-Done?" she asked, her voice very weak. It pained me to hear it so weak, but I nodded with a smile, but also a curiosity: normally people didn't faint when I did that, so why did she? I very much doubted it was her strength, because she was the strongest girl I've met thus far. So why was this affecting her so much?

I waited by the computer that was analyzing the data I had collected. It seemed to take forever as I twiddled my thumbs, taking a good look around the hospital. It was actually quite nice; it's a shame I didn't use it more often. Pristine walls with matching metallic doors that led to more rooms, some with artificial views of a city, some with the view of the time vortex itself. Others had an actual view of what was outside my TARDIS right now. The waiting was killing me, so I stood up and walked to a room with a view of the actual TARDIS view. I smiled lightly, looking at the beautiful scenery. Then I saw him.

He was right outside the doors, trying to look in. A new gun in his hand was glistening in the daylight as he loaded it with bullets. His hand reached for the door to try and open it, but he couldn't; it was locked. I made sure of that.

"I know you're in there, Bastard!" I couldn't actually hear him, but I could lip read with extreme precision. I hoped to goodness I put Clara in a room with an artificial view or of the time vortex, because she didn't need to see this.

I left the room as I heard the test results being printed off. I ran to the machine to grab them and find out what was wrong. The results were very vague, which was very odd for the TARDIS to do. Usually it calculated these things with amazing accuracy. I chuckled to myself as I muttered, "Clara Oswin Oswald… you really are impossible." With that, I tried to make the best of the readings I was given, all of them in Gallifreyian.

I set aside the paper as I stood up. _I should get her flowers or something, _I thought to myself. I was about to step forward when I remembered that that man was standing outside, waiting for either Clara or me, or the both of us. I decided then to explore the TARDIS for something I could give her.

**-Clara's P.o.V. (I think this is the only time it will be)-**

I laid in the bed, feeling weak. It was a weird weak, like I had never experienced before. My mind was haunted with the past I had just been forced to experience again. I hated my father more and more as the slaps, hits, and cuts became so real. _Don't cry. It shows weakness._ I barley stopped myself from crying when I took a first look around the room. It was nice, very large: when celebrities go to hospitals with a private room, it was at least three times larger than that. Out the window there was a peaceful valley that I doubted was real. The room had its own kitchen and full bathroom with a washer and drier. Well, if I ever was going to need it, I would be able to wash my cloths. Lovely.

I took to staring at the window, loving the view. It was peaceful, unlike what the last… what was it? How long had it been since the party, the dance? I shook my head lightly. Time always made me the slightest bit confused and I really didn't need my head spinning right now. When I looked back to the window, however, I saw a woman. She was wearing a beautiful, long whit dress and her hair was fashioned to flow down her back. She seemed to be looking out the window, unaware of me.

"Hello?" I called to the woman. She didn't seem to even acknowledge me. "Hello?!" I called again, a little more urgent, but my voice was weak. I hated it.

"Rest, child," the woman called out, her voice sing-song like. She didn't turn to face me, but I felt like she knew exactly who I was.

"Who a-are you?" My voice was starting to crack. Great. Exactly what I needed.

The woman turned to look at me, walking nearer and nearer. Instead of feeling the fright of a stranger I felt the warmth of love increase as she came to my bed. "You do not need to know me, Clara dear." Her voice was very gentle, and somehow I knew it. I knew her by her nose.

"M-Mum?" I was almost scared at how my voice sounded; so weak and sickly, like it belonged to an elder lady just after having yelled for an hour or two.

The woman chuckled lightly. "My Clara, my little miracle." She smiled as the words came from her mouth. "You turned out so beautiful, so perfect."

Instead of the happiness I had been feeling, a bit of anger erupted inside me. "Where h-have you b-been?" Tears threatened my eyes just thinking again of my father. "While h-he slapped m-me and b-beat me?" The woman's vivid blue eyes looked into my light brown ones as a frown came on her face. She went to hug me, but I turned away.

"You must understand, child," she placed her ghostly hand on me as she spoke, trying to comfort me. "There would have been nothing I could have done. So why would I watch my child be beaten by my drunk husband if I could not intervene?"

"You c-could have at l-least been with me, at m-my side." I was fed up with this, though I know I shouldn't be. She gave her life for mine before she even saw me and I was treating her like she had failed everything. I supposed it was just all my emotions from the years piling up, but my mother looked at me with a sad smile.

"I never left you, Clara dear. You just sometimes don't look hard enough." A memory flooded back to my head, in the graveyard. The graveyard where I saw my own gravestone.

"_I don't believe in ghosts." I said, looking around the graveyard._

Now, looking back, I remembered seeing a flash of white, but it was gone when I looked back. I remembered feeling a strange connection, but I had just shook it off at the time.

"You're right," I said, a small tone of defeat to my voice. I then, out of no where, looked at my hands. They were almost completely white, which scared me. "Mummy," I started, my voice cracking on every word, "I d-don't want to d-die a-again."

There was no response for quite sometime. Then, finally, my mother spoke again. "There is surly death in the air, but you have no control over whom he shall take." With that, she walked to where I would be looking at her and knelt down, so we were eye-to-eye. She gently placed a hand on my cheek as I drifted into sleep.

I woke up after I had been fully rested, which I couldn't actually calculate, since the clocks in the TARDIS never worked properly. I knew it must have been a while because my mother was gone and I was alone again. Not soon after that, however, I heard footsteps; footsteps I knew and were relieved to hear.

"Clara?" The Doctor's voice was gentle as he opened the door to my room. His hands were behind his back, and I wondered what he had.

I must have been smiling, because the Doctor's face went from a worried frown to a sad smile as soon as our eyes met. I didn't feel like talking, so I stayed silent. He seemed to understand I didn't want to speak, because he just came and sat by me.

"You look a lot better, that's for sure," The Doctor smiled encouragingly. I loved anytime he smiled, especially when he was either on to something or trying to boost another's mood.

"T-Thanks," I managed to get out. Even just muttering a word made me feel like all of my energy was gone. I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.

The Doctor went to work, I suppose one could call it. Looking off of a piece of paper, he set up an IV system and other things you could find in a proper hospital. He was sure to read the instructions very carefully. Once he was sure he had it right, he set the paper on the table beside and stuck an IV in my arm. I felt some sort of medicine come into my body, and it seemed to help tremendously. My strength restored itself quicker than I ever thought it could. I looked at the Doctor and gave him my best smile.

"I can never repay you, Doctor," I said, with truth.

"Consider it done, Clara," he replied, happiness in his voice.

"I don't understand." I was very confused. I hadn't done anything to repay him ever since I'd been with him for these very long hours we had been reunited.

"Just you being alive, just seeing that, sometimes, the universe does care. Seeing miracles before my very eyes is something that will even excite the oldest of men." He chuckled to himself, which kind of upset me. It was true that he looked no older than thirty, but I wanted to know how. I had been in the Doctor's room and I saw absolutely _no _anti-aging make-up in there.

"What are you?" I blurted out before thinking. I knew that was kind of rude, but I wanted to know so badly. It had been bugging me ever since I first met him.

"I'm a Gallifreyian, also known as Timelord," he replied casually. It was too casual, like he'd explained this too many times before and wished people would just stop pestering him already. "Timelords have this.. Ability, I guess you could say. When we age or our bodies are killed, we can regenerate. Change our face and continue on. It's not all that fun after you've done it so many times, believe me." he chuckled again, making me think he's done this "regenerating" thing a fair few times. As if in answer to my unasked question, he stated, "I've regenerated quite a few times. This is my…" he paused and used his fingers to count, which I found childish and adorable. "Eleventh. Blimey, how did I forget?" He shook his head as if he was one of most idiotic men in the world.

"So you haven't always looked like that?" I asked, just to be making sure I was understanding this all correctly. He nodded.

Suddenly, I felt something very odd happen. I gasped as I had a searing pain in my chest that quickly spread around my body. The Doctor rushed to aid, asking words I couldn't understand. There was a growing buzzing in my ears as I felt myself slipping away. _Hold on, Clara. You can hold on. For him. _

The last thing I felt was his warm and smooth lips before I died.

**- 11****th**** Doctor's P.o.V. (The past events from his view)-**

"So, you haven't always looked like that?" Clara asked me after I told her a rough image what I was. I gave a short nod in reply before Clara gasped.

"CLARA!" I ran to her side, watching her cringe. "What's happening? Clara!" She didn't respond to me, her eyes full of fear. I tried to figure out what had gone wrong when a terrible thought came to me. I quickly shifted my gaze to the fluid I had hooked her up to and felt my stomach drop. _To be used on Timelords/Timeladies only. Do not use on any other species. _I cursed loudly in Gallifreayian, cursing my own stupidity. I was so concentrated on the bloody instruction-

I looked to Clara, her body twitching slightly. I knew she only had seconds to live, on my accord. So, I did the only reasonable thing.

I kissed her goodbye.


	6. The End?

I never wanted to pull away. I wanted to stay there, in her warm embrace, kissing her for eternity. I forced myself to retreat, her limp body growing cold. Slowly, I removed the IV from her arm and cast it to the ground. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with that murderous needle that led me to take the life away from my Clara. _My Clara. _The guilt I feel inside me is eating at my insides; it feels like it's devouring my hearts one after the other. My hand slowly reached for my face as I found tears coming down at a steady pace. I kept an eye on her; she always came back. She always…

No. I have to pull away. I can't stand over a dead body all day and hope life somehow magically returns to it; have I not learned that in 1000 years of time travel? I had to do the only thing left in my power to do; avenge her. Reaching in my pocket, I closed my hand around my sonic screwdriver and pulled it from the pocket. I hit the button a few times, each time having it emit a little sound along with a green light.

"Don't worry, Clara," I spoke to her lifeless body, "I will avenge you to the best of my ability." Why I was saying that I had no clue, but at that moment, I swear I saw her twitch. _She's dead, she can't twitch. _I sighed heavily, feeling a slight wind pass by. Slowly, I leaned in and kissed her cheek one more time before shutting the light off and leaving the room.

The walk down to the console room from the hospital was a long and depressing one. Guilt kept swarming me like it had never before, even with Rose, River, Amy… all of them. Everyone I had ever lost, and none of them competed with Clara. Not even Sarah Jane Smith met up with Clara, and _that _is saying something.

I reached the last flight of steps before the console room. I slowly trudged down them, letting my shoulders slump. Walking down, I felt the warmth of the TARDIS, but none of it reached me, in a way: I felt it physically, but the part that usually touched my very hearts wasn't there, and my hearts were frozen over with stupidity and guilt. Everything else was normal, though. There was still the Gallifreyian symbols amongst the walls, there were the six control panels, and… I looked to the door, more specifically to the window. The light that usually was unaffected in it's brilliance was flickering, accompanied by loud knockings. That man was still outside, I noted as a mischievous and a stupid smirk (those smirks you get when you're about to do something _terribly _stupid) on my face. With that, I walked to the doors and opened them.

The man almost fell into the TARDIS, but caught himself. He looked me up and down before scoffing to himself. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Well, I've been called many names, but I prefer the Doctor, if you don't mind." I paused, "and that's Mr. Doctor to you, because I know who you are now."

"Then who am I, Doctor? Who could I possibly be?!" the man shouted in my face. I did my best to keep the interior of the TARDIS hidden; I didn't need him figuring out about that just yet.

"Don't play games," I started, but was interrupted. As I spoke, the man raised his gun and pointed it straight at the center of my chest. My hands instinctively flew in the air in a type of surrender. "Now now, I'm not really the type for violence, especially guns." I kept my eyes on the gun.

"If you know who I am, you know what I want." I knew what he was talking about, because I had figured out who he was. It's obvious, really. From the evilish glint in his eyes to the scars on his face…

"I'm afraid Clara stays with me, Mr. Oswald." I said, trying to stay as monotone as possible. I could _not _show emotion. I couldn't let Mr. Oswald know I killed his daughter; the daughter he so desperately wanted dead and probably the reason he brought his gun with him.

"Show me the bitch, or I shoot!" He tried to be frightening, but all I could do was chuckle. Ah, the human race. Surprised they can manage by themselves.

"I thought you wanted Clara. Sorry for the miscommunication. If I see your female dog, I'll let yo-"

"You know what I mean, bastard!" He looked very angry, and his gun looked ready to fire. Well, I've lived a few hundred years like this, haven't I?

"I'm really afraid to say I can't hand her over. You see, when I pick my companions, I stick out for them. Clara is my companion, so I suggest leaving before things go for the worse, for either of us really." I was going cross-eyed looking at the blur of silver that almost touched my chest and that seemed to be coming closer and closer.

"Have it your way, then!" He smirked and fired. In the distance, I heard a familiar scream of "NO!" before falling to the ground. I could tell regeneration was on it's way because I felt how I always did: like I was already dead. This blow would have killed an average man; and thank God I wasn't.

My sight began to blur as a figure rushed to me, with long hair and a worried expression. She took my hand and yelled for me, but my voice had stopped working as the pain in my chest increased. I could tell tears were coming to her eyes as she stood up and faced the man. I heard another gun shot go off a minute later and the man fell near my feet, dead. The gun dropped as the girl rushed to me again. I could see absolutely nothing now and could only faintly hear or feel. What I did feel was the warming heat of regeneration energy starting with the tips of my fingers as I willed my lips to move.

"I-in the T-TARDIS… P-Please…" My throat seared with pain just trying to mutter, though I felt it healing. I felt my body being lifted, and whoever held it moved forward. My sight slowly started returning, as did my hearing and sense of touch. I felt the person holding me try to run to the hospital, but I knew there was no time. "Here…" I faintly mumbled, pointing a weak finger to a room off to the side. The figure turned and opened the door as she set me down gently on the floor.

"Please be alright… please…" the figure was muttering and crying at the same time. It took me this long to recognize her (regeneration; it makes your brain all fuzzy sometimes), but I whispered my last words.

"Oh Clara… It's just beginning."

**-Clara's P.o.V. (I lied last chapter V.V Sorry)-**

I didn't expect what happened to happened. I had died before, sure, but never like that. How can I even describe it? By feeling so… _alive. _Whatever that stuff was felt amazing, but yet deadly. I figured the last bit out after closing my eyes. I slowly rose up and looked around. The Doctor looked very angry with himself as he pulled an IV out of my arm that I didn't feel. He retreated a few steps, then looked directly at me for the longest time.

Finally, with him still keeping a very weird eye on me, I stood up from my bed. He was still staring at the place I just was, which I found silly. Only when I looked there as well did I understand.

Laying in that bed, motionless and pale, was me. My eyes widened, staring at myself. So, I _had _died. Well, that was lovely to know, I suppose.

The Doctor reached in his pocket for something, found it, and brought it out. I didn't know the proper name, but I had seen him with it before. Hand on the handle, he pushed the button a couple of times, and in response, the thing showed a green light.

"Don't worry, Clara. I will avenge you to the best of my ability," he started talking to my body. I watched him sadly, wishing I could just reach out to him; tell him that I'm alright, and that I l-

Just then, I felt a cold chill. I didn't think I would be able to feel one, you know, being dead and all. But I did, and I shuddered, and so did my body. The Doctor got excited for one moment, then went back to his moping, getting up. I tried to whisper to him as he walked past, but he didn't hear me. I sighed and was about to follow him before I heard something.

"Clara!" At first I thought it was the Doctor, but I realized the voice was feminine. At second thought, I thought it could be my mother, but the voice didn't sound familiar at all. So, turning around, I found the body to match the voice.

Her image was very blurry, almost like she didn't belong here. What I could tell of her, however, was that she was around my height. "Who are you?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"You have no need to fear me, Clara Oswin Oswald." I found that ironic in itself. If someone knew my whole name, I'd be terrified. But what did that matter now? "But you have to fear what lies ahead. The Doctor you know is in grave danger, not just immediate, but long term. He thinks he can run, but even geniuses have their idiot moments." She paused, and I could tell an apparent worried look on her blurred face. "You must give him a message. It's of utter most importance, and this is the only way I can deliver it." This girl's voice changed somewhat, like she was _jealous. _However, with that, she approached me and whispered something in my ear. She backed away, and I nodded. "If your mission is successful, I'll be seeing you again shortly, Clara Oswin Oswald." With that, I blinked and she was gone. Another blink, and I was back on the hospital bed, very much alive.

Again, like dying, coming back to life wasn't a new feeling either. I sat straight up, ignoring a bit of light headedness, and looked around the room. It was empty and dark; unwelcoming as ever. I remembered he had left the room, so I stood up and ran out the door and down the stairs. Slowly, two voices became louder and louder. I reached the console and saw what was happening:

The Doctor was standing in the doorway, looking out of the TARDIS. There was a man standing in front of him, and he looked familiar. Too familiar for comfort.

Everything fell apart. I heard the sound of a gun firing and, to my dismay, I saw the Doctor fall to the ground. "NO!" I ran to him, tears already springing from my eyes. I ran to him and knelt down by him, taking his hand. Realizing he was most likely to die in the next few minutes, I quickly stole the gun from the man who I could now name.

"Hello father," I said, a bitter tone in my voice that made me wonder if it was actually my voice. "Miss me?" With that, I pulled the trigger and my father fell at my feet, dead. I threw the gun down near his already dead body and ran for the Doctor. "You're going to be alright, please…" I whispered, truly frightened.

"I-in the T-TARDIS… P-Please…" His voice was pained; so pained it made me sick to listen to it. I nodded as I picked him up and started walking into the TARDIS. I had no clue where he wanted me to take him, so I started to run to the first place I could think of: the Hospital. Something weird was happening to his body. It was warming up and faintly glowing. However, when we were at a door that looked very old, he pointed a sickly weak finger. "H-here…" His voice was just a tad stronger as I obeyed, turning on the spot and pushing the door open.

"Please be alright… please…" tears slowly came down my face as I gently put him down on the floor. He looked at me with weary eyes.

"Oh Clara, It's just the beginning," he said, his voice stronger than the previous two times he had talked. I shut the door, fearing what was happening. I heard something going on that I could never give a name to, then screaming. I ran to the console, scared. I took this time to examine the place for the beautiful piece of technology it really was; complex, with six stations, probably meant for six drivers. _Where are the other five? _I thought for a while, and came to a conclusion. That maybe, quite possibly, he's the last of his kind. _Don't mention anything to him. _I like agreeing with myself.

I don't know how many irrational seconds, minutes, whatever unit of time it was, until someone stumbled out of the room I had placed the Doctor in. He was glowing with some gold energy as he looked around. His eyes locked on me as he walked down the stairs, smiling. I didn't know this man.

"Clara," he said, a sad smile on his face. No… this couldn't be…

"D-Doctor?" I sounded foolish, like a little girl asking if her mother was really her mother, but how could I sound differently? The only thing I could identify was his cloths: still a tweed jacket with suspenders and bow tie, even the bullet hole in the middle of his chest. Another thing the same that I could never forget that I noticed when he was closer: his eyes.

"Yes, it's me, the one and only Doctor!" He sounded different, and I couldn't pace it in a better or worse category. He suddenly clutched the right side of his chest and coughed, the energy coming from his mouth. "You'd think, after doing this eleven times, it would get easier," he paused again, coughing, "but it gets h-harder every TIME!" He yelled the last bit, falling to his knees. I knelt down beside him, suddenly remembering the message I was to tell.

"Doctor, there's something I need to tell you." I became nervous all of a sudden. He looked at me, expecting me to speak. Finally, he spoke up.

"Well, what is it?" He sounded a bit impatient, so I willed myself to lean into his ear and whisper two words.

"Bad Wolf"

**The End! Thank you everyone who has followed this story! I really appreciate it. I will write a sequel to the Doctor and Clara's tales shortly (well, define **_**shortly**_**). So, have fun and watch Doctor Who on March 30****th****!**

**-TimeLady Potter**


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